


i'll be your sunset

by lesmiserablol



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Skype dates, long distance is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesmiserablol/pseuds/lesmiserablol
Summary: “The sunset looks very nice today,” Steve says quietly, only his eyes still aren’t looking away from Bucky. “It is so bright, and beautiful, and so lovely to watch. I could honestly stare at it all day. And it has...really nice hair.”“You’re so romantic,” Bucky snorts.





	i'll be your sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the ten million fics I have written about these two Skyping. Title comes from the song I'll Be Your Sunset by A Rocket to the Moon. Enjoy!

Bucky’s arm is outstretched and the central Kimoyo bead on the bracelet is glowing as the video projects Steve’s face in the air, showing him the same view he had on the tablet screen when Shuri initially introduced him to Skype. Bucky had been dying to walk around and show Steve more of Wakanda, but he also dropped the tablet several times, much to Shuri's annoyance ("Just because it's an easy fix doesn't mean I have the time to keep cleaning up after you, lovebird"). She insisted Bucky take a Kimoyo bracelet and use the beads to call Steve instead. Steve thought this was hilarious, but Steve also has Sam's laptop, two arms, and only the view of motel room after motel room to show off to Bucky. 

“The sunsets here are the best I’ve ever seen,” Bucky comments when there’s a lull in the conversation. He’s now at one of his favorite and most quiet parts of Wakanda, a cliff from which he can see his current home and the surrounding area, watching the sun disappear behind the lake below. He sits on a rock a safe distance from the edge and rests his right arm against his propped-up knee to balance Steve’s projected image in front of his face.

“Better than the ones we’d watch from our place in Brooklyn?” Steve teases, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly. Even in the outside sun, the image is clear and bright enough that Bucky can make out all of the details on Steve’s weary face and notice every strand of his disheveled hair.

A smile tugs at Bucky’s lips at the thought of the two of them in Brooklyn. Before Shuri healed the trigger words from his mind, it would’ve been a distant memory, one that would have hurt him to think about too much. But now, he can clearly picture the evenings they spent watching the sun disappear behind the buildings in the distance. Their feet dangling over the metal edge of the fire escape, sitting close despite the fact that Bucky was still sweaty and smelly from working all day, their knees knocking together. On good days he’d be able to bring back some cheap, stale bread from the bakery down the street and they'd share it as they watched the sky rapidly change colors. The sun would be a hazy outline and once it was gone, they’d stare above them as if wishing for the view of a starry night that never came.

“There’s significantly less pollution here, so, yes. Plus, the company’s better here,” he smirks.

Steve laughs at that. “Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Steve manages to make his eye roll look fond. “Let me see the sunset,” he says.

“Uh,” Bucky starts, trying to remember what Shuri told him to do to turn the camera around. Instead, he manages to move his arm at an awkward angle so Steve can get a crooked view of the sunset.

Steve snorts. “Let me see you _and_ the sunset, loser.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and shifts his position on the rock so the sun is setting behind him. “Better?” he asks, and Steve gives him a thumbs up. “I’m glad it is for you, because now I have a terrible view.”

Steve’s lips twitch. “Really? Well I have the best view, and that’s not even factoring in the sunset.”

Bucky can’t hold back the grin that takes over his face then. If Shuri were here she’d laugh and tease him senseless. “You’re a huge sap, you know that?”

“I’m your sap,” Steve tells him, still chuckling, his nose scrunching up and his eyes crinkling at the corners. His laughter dies down until he’s just smiling, expression soft as he looks over Bucky’s shoulder to admire the sunset, something in his eyes changing when he looks back to meet Bucky’s eyes again.

“The sunset looks very nice today,” Steve says quietly, only his eyes still aren’t looking away from Bucky. “It is so bright, and beautiful, and so lovely to watch. I could honestly stare at it all day. And it has...really nice hair.”

“You’re so romantic,” Bucky snorts, but after a few moments he forces a smile for Steve, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. “The sunset really misses you.”

“I haven’t seen it in several days, I’ve missed it too,” Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair again.

“That’s a shame, because the sunset thinks you’re really cute,” Bucky says. “Even if you need a haircut.”

“I thought you liked my hair like this?” Steve grins cheekily at him.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Yeah, when you actually comb it instead of just running your hands through it all the time.”

“You’re one to talk about combing your hair.”

“I have one arm, what’s your excuse, Rogers?”

Steve’s laughter dies within a few seconds, and Bucky can see Steve’s eyes betraying the longing he feels.

“You should come and see the sunset in person. I think he’d like that,” Bucky says quietly.

“I’d like that, too,” Steve's smile is more genuine now. “I think I’ll be able to swing by sometime soon. Not this Friday, but the one after that, maybe.”

It’s only Tuesday. Bucky swallows the lump that wells in his throat when he thinks about waiting a week and a half to see Steve in person again. It’s already been a few weeks since his last visit, and the Skype calls have been random and too spaced out.

Steve frowns as the silence stretches, knowing Bucky well enough to know what he’s thinking. Bucky vaguely registers that the sun has almost completely set, the area rapidly becoming darker.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and Bucky looks up from where he had been watching the shadows stretching across the ground. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. I know it sucks now, but soon I'll be done, or at least I'll be able to take a break. Just you and I, we deserve that. I’ll take you somewhere nice, we’ll get to...to relax, as much as we can. How does that sound?”

Bucky smiles at the thought. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

The sweet silence between them is interrupted when Sam and Natasha burst into the hotel room, appearing in the entryway behind Steve.

“Steve!” Natasha shouts, and he can tell instantly that she and Sam are not at all sober. She holds up a plastic bag. “I need a new cover. Sam is bleaching my hair. Right now. Have any scissors?”

“Ooh,” Sam’s eyes widen as he notices the open laptop for the first time, voice adopting a stage whisper. “He’s talking to Bucky.”

Natasha notices the laptop too. “We’ll be in the bathroom,” she says, shaking the plastic bag again. “Give your boyfriend my best. Or. Your best. No, wait. Not in the room. Not while we’re in the bathroom.”

Sam starts to pull her away by the arm and she doesn’t protest, the two of them laughing loudly.

Steve turns back to the screen, the tips of his ears red. Bucky laughs at him.

“Maybe I should supervise this. I would hate for Sam to screw up and have Nat blame us both,” Steve sighs. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Bucky nods, ignoring the choice of the word _later_  as opposed to  _tomorrow_ or _soon_. He forces a smile that becomes more genuine the longer he maintains eye contact with Steve. “Yeah. Stay safe, okay?”

“Always,” Steve replies, and Bucky snorts at that.

They keep staring at one another, Bucky drinking in Steve’s face, his hair, his beard. He doesn’t want to hang up, and Steve seems unwilling to do so as well.

“I love you, Buck,” Steve says softly, sincerely.

“Love you too, Stevie,” Bucky replies quietly, blinking quickly.

Something from the bathroom crashes loudly and Sam and Natasha’s laughter increases. Steve winces.

“Gotta go,” he says reluctantly. He gives Bucky a wave and the next second Bucky is staring blankly at the grass in front of him. He lowers his arm slowly, defeated, into his lap.

The sun is now completely gone, all traces of light disappeared. It feels as cold and lonely outside as Bucky feels inside, but he tries to focus on the sound of Steve’s laughter replaying in his head as he makes his way back to his empty house with the empty bed.

 

* * *

 

It has been exactly two weeks since Bucky had last talked to Steve. Four days ago was the day Steve said he should be in Wakanda, but he hadn’t even tried to call or answer Bucky’s calls. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried, but a part of him knows that Steve is more than capable of taking care of himself. Even if he wasn’t, Sam and Natasha are with him, and they’ll take care of him. At least, that’s what Bucky tells himself every minute of every day in an attempt to reassure himself.

He tries to distract himself by finding busy work to do in his makeshift farm, cleaning it up some more, putting more time into it. The children want to play with him but when they see that he’s acting more distant than usual they just watch and give him company, not talking to him as much as they are chatting among themselves, for which Bucky is grateful.

One of them, perched in a tree, tells him the king is coming, but Bucky just keeps working until he notices not only the king, but a whole entourage have come, carrying a large box. Bucky knows what’s in it before they open it. When he initially rejected the arm, he told them he didn’t need or want it, but he would take it in order to help them defend Wakanda should the occasion arise. The box coupled with their solemn faces tells him everything he needs to know.

 _I’ll take you somewhere nice,_  Steve had said. Bucky had allowed himself to imagine it, for a day or two. They’d go to one of those places that Sarah would read to them about and Bucky would make up stories about if only to get that look of wide-eyed wonder in Steve’s eyes, when they were kids. They would take all the time in the world and he wouldn’t let Steve out of his sight. Steve would sketch, he’d sketch the sky and the plants and the buildings and Bucky. They would hold each other at night, and in the day they wouldn’t let go. They would talk, the way they don’t get to when they’re on Skype and others can overhear. Bucky would tell Steve everything he’d been meaning to tell him. He’d tell him about his years on the run between DC and Romania. He’d tell him about his nightmares and his fears, and then let himself be comforted by the fantasies Steve creates for the two of them. Bucky would ask about Sokovia and his years searching for Bucky, and he’d ask all about his new life on the run with Sam and Natasha. It would be like their days in Brooklyn, when they knew each other inside and out.

Bucky should’ve known better than to let himself imagine any of it in the first place. He and Steve aren’t the kind that will ever know true peace and happiness.

Bucky clenches his jaw, not even bothering to look up from the vibranium arm. “Where’s the fight?”


End file.
